Letters From a Forgotten Friend
by telltaleArtist
Summary: Persephone has been turned mortal and is now going by the name Rosa. She has no idea who she was and she keeps receiving strange letters through a mysterious messenger. With a fiancé that she loves, and a strange connection to the writer of these letters, Rosa must figure out who she is. How will this be possible without Hades there to help her? Sequel to "Of Darkness and Daisies."


~≈~≈I≈~≈~

It's been happening for a while now. These letters keep coming in the mail. They're addressed to a woman named Persephone. There's no address on them, but the mailman, who isn't really my mailman, insists they're for me.

Now, this man who delivers these letters to me says he's just a messenger for a friend. He's never told me his name, but he has become a good friend of mine.

Of course, I have to read the letters he gives me. Even though my name is not the one on the letters, I always feel a sense of curiosity overflow my thoughts. All of these messages seem like love letters, but they have this dark aura about them that almost seem familiar. The envelope itself is pretty plain. The contents of the letter, though, are very intriguing. Each time I open a letter, a black rose falls out. Black roses are supposed to be a symbol of death, but I have a feeling these are symbols of love. The paper is white with tints of red. And the writing, that's what interests me most. The writing is in black ink and scribbled on the paper, like the writer had no time to make it neat. And for some reason, the letter itself seems so out of character. And, the man who writes these letters never signs his name. It always says "From, a Friend." I have a feeling, though, that this man and the woman named Persephone are more than friends.

The letter this time was exceptionally short. It read:

"My Dearest Queen,

If only these letters were of some help to you. You seem so distant. I really have no time to be writing, but I figured I should at least send something. You have no idea how much I miss you. I will always love you, even if you no longer know me. I hope, my Queen, that you will return to me someday. Take care, my dear. I am sorry I cannot be with you. Once again, I love you.

From,

A Friend"

The rose that fell out of the letter was different. It was still a black rose, but this time, there was a note attached to it. It was in different writing than the letter, and it was signed. It said:

"My lady, I do hope these letters serve you well. My lord misses you dearly during these winter months. Take care.

Hecate"

Hecate… I've heard that name somewhere before. I believe it was the name a greek goddess. The goddess of witchcraft and magic. A servant to the King and Queen of the Underworld. Persephone was the name of a goddess as well. She was the Queen of the Underworld, wife to Hades during the winter, and Daughter to Demeter during the spring. Both names belonged to the darkness, it seemed. And then there was the black rose. How peculiar.

Another thought ran through my mind. That day where I woke up in the field of flowers there was a woman who said her name was Demeter. She had called me Persephone and said I was her daughter. It had to be a coincidence. After I had managed to make it home, I had tried the next day to find the flower field I had woke up in. The flowers were beautiful and I wanted to get a better look at them now that my confusion had subsided.

However, I couldn't seem to find the field for the life of me! I wondered through the forest that was just outside of town but I kept going in circles. I could've sworn I had walked exactly the same way as I had the day before.

It had been about two months since I had woken up in the field. I still couldn't put it out of my mind. These letters that I received arrived once a week starting the day I got back from my confusing adventure. It seemed odd to me that I couldn't remember anything from before that day except for a few minor details. Both my parents died in a fire when I was eight, I worked as a florist in my own little shop just down the street from my one story house that I moved into three years ago. I had a boyfriend name Alexander. Actually, he was my fiancé, but it meant all the same to me. Nothing else seemed to present itself in my mind. I couldn't remember my parent's names, I couldn't remember where I had lived before I moved in here. I couldn't even remember when and where Alex proposed to me. That made me feel awful, but I'll never say a word about it to him.

I sighed. It was frustrating not being able to remember. I read over the letter in my hand again. This man must have dearly loved the woman he's been writing to. I wonder what happened between them. Perhaps she left him, or perhaps she got into an accident and is unable to remember him. She sounds like such a wonderful woman judging by the way he speaks to her. I had to put a stop to this. He was probably in so much pain because he lost his love, yet I am the one receiving the letters instead of her.

I sat down at my desk and pulled out a piece of stationary and began writing:

"My Dear Friend,

I am sorry to inform you, but the letters you write are being received by me, not your beloved Persephone. I can imagine she is a lovely person and I feel awful she is not receiving your letters. I have tried speaking with the man who delivers your letters, but he insists they are for me. I have tried telling him I am not Persephone, but when I try to return the letters to him, he refuses to take them. I apologize that your dear Persephone is not receiving your letters, but I would like to inform you that I no longer wish to read such heartbreaking words. You sound like you've been through so much pain with this woman, it saddens me to read the words of love you write to her.

I apologize once again that your love is not receiving your letters. I am so sorry.

Sincerely, Rosa"

I folded up the letter and put it in the envelope, adding a red rose from the vase on my desk. Perhaps if this man saw a bit of color in a flower, it would give him a bit of hope. I didn't write anything on the envelope, not knowing who to make it out to. The man who delivers the letter only comes to my door once a week, but perhaps he will notice my letter as he walks past the house on another day. I opened my front door and set the letter inside the mailbox that was on the wall just outside.

As soon as I closed the door there was a knock. I opened in only to see the messenger on my porch.

"I didn't even see you! How did you get here so fast?" My surprise was obvious.

He held up a finger to his lips. "It's a secret." He gave me a smile and held up my letter. "Would you like me to deliver this?"

"Yes." I nodded, "To the man who's been sending me those letters."

He nodded and gave me a cocky grin. "I'll have it to him in a flash." He bowed his head and before walking away said, "I'll see you next week, _Rosa_."

I smiled to myself and shook my head, closing the door behind me as I reentered my house. He always says my name as if he doesn't believe it truly belongs to me.

I sighed and walked into the kitchen, opening up the fridge to grab a drink. I noticed there were still some pomegranate seeds in a bowl. I decided to eat them as I read a book or something. Pomegranates were my favorite fruit after all. I don't know how I came to like the fruit, but I've always loved the taste for as long as I could remember.

I decided I would call Alex. He was on a business trip and hasn't been home for about a week and a half. I missed him so much. It was so lonely around the house without him here.

The phone rang but went to voicemail shortly afterward. I sighed and hung up the phone. It was alway difficult getting in touch with him.

I sighed and looked out the window. Snow began to fall in light, fluffy flakes of pure white. It was only September, but it got cold quicker than it had any other year. I remember just this past April it was snowing as well. This year seemed to have a very short summer. It was odd, but I couldn't help but think that something happened to Demeter's daughter that made her more upset than usual. I wasn't one to believe those myths, but it was the only reason I could think of.


End file.
